


All I Really Want is You

by allsassnoclass (brightblackholes)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (except for mashton being in a romantic relationship), (y'all know how this goes), Canon Universe, Engagement, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sappy, This is incredibly sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, we all need some sweetness I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightblackholes/pseuds/allsassnoclass
Summary: Clearly showing on the screen is the beginning of an email from a jewelry store, the kind that specializes in engagement rings, with the subject lineOrder Confirmation.He can’t see the body of the email, but it’s enough.Ashton bought an engagement ring.  It might even be in the house right now.  Michael is going to get proposed to at some point, possibly very soon.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	All I Really Want is You

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off [this](https://allsassnoclass.tumblr.com/post/627530535898677248/bamboo-muse-this-is-the-complete-opposite-to-all) post on tumblr. It spoke to me and it said mashton, so here we are
> 
> Title is from she looks so perfect :)

“I can’t find it,” Ashton says, his huff of frustration breaking the easy silence of the evening as he continues to scroll through his email. Michael glances at the phone from where he’s plastered to his side on the couch, watching letters blur together, none of which seem to spell “escape room.”

It was Luke’s idea to book one for all of them. Apparently being best friends and living in each other’s back pockets for nearly a decade is not enough “band bonding,” and the last time they all got together Luke complained that they always neglect each other when on breaks between touring and writing.

“You should third wheel the Mashton dates, like I do,” Calum had said. Luke had pulled a spectacularly sour face, then pouted when he saw that Michael had the same expression.

Michael thinks some space is healthy. He also thinks that getting all of them in the same room to fail at solving puzzles is going to be the most fun he’s had since they played their last show. As such, Ashton booked the room a few days ago and now apparently can’t find the order confirmation that they need for tomorrow.

“Let me try,” Michael says, taking the phone and navigating to the email search bar. He types in “confirm” and waits for the results to load. Once they do, he freezes. Next to him, Ashton stops breathing.

Clearly showing on the screen is the beginning of an email from a jewelry store, the kind that specializes in engagement rings, with the subject line  _ Order Confirmation _ . He can’t see the body of the email, but it’s enough.

They’ve talked about marriage before, so this isn’t a new concept. They’ve been dancing around each other since they were teenagers, and it had always been part of the plan once they finally, officially got together, both of them too nervous about risking the band to take a chance on a relationship together they weren’t already 100% sure of. It’s been years since the subject was first mentioned, and Michael distantly knew this day would come. They’ve been working with management to come out separately, to mostly supportive reactions. They always said that marriage would happen when they felt like they could be open about it.

It’s very different to talk about in hypotheticals than to know that one of them has a ring somewhere.

Michael blinks himself out of his daze, steels himself, and keeps scrolling. He obviously wasn't meant to see the email, and they need to find the escape room confirmation before Michael loses himself thinking about this. Ashton breathes out next to him, arm tightening just barely around his shoulders.

“Found it,” Michael says, clicking on the proper email and flagging it so Ashton can find it again if he clicks away. He hands back the phone and picks his own up with the intent to get rid of some of his own notifications, but he can’t move beyond the homescreen before he’s staring at it blankly.

Ashton bought an engagement ring. It might even be in the house right now. Michael is going to get proposed to at some point, possibly very soon.

Ashton snorts next to him. Michael glances at him out of the corner of his eye, and then he’s giggling, growing into full-out laughter by increments. Ashton’s laugh has always been infectious, and Michael can’t help but join him. The entire situation is ridiculous enough that it’s verging on hysterical, and Michael’s laughter doesn’t die until Ashton has melted into the cushions. He can’t believe he’s in love with this man.

“Why are we laughing?” he asks.

“You  _ know _ why,” Ashton says, and that almost sets them off again, because he  _ does _ know. They both do.

“Is it… is it here?” Michael asks. Ashton smiles at him. If it was in his pocket and he whipped it out right now, Michael would say yes, but he knows that won’t happen. Ashton likes planning his romance.

“Yeah, it’s in the house,” he says. A shiver of anticipation zips up Michael’s spine.

“Is it hidden?” he asks.

“Obviously,” Ashton says. “Don’t go looking for it or I won’t give it to you.”

Michael pinches his thigh in retaliation, but Ashton just laughs and pulls him closer. Michael twists so he’s in his lap and tucks his nose against Ashton’s neck, even though he knows it tickles.

“Can we play hot or cold?” he asks. Ashton flinches a little at the puff of air, predictable in a way that makes Michael smile.

“Absolutely not. You’ll just have to be patient.”

Michael whines. Ashton laughs at him, because patience has never been his strong suit.

“This better be worth it,” he says.

“I hope so,” Ashton says. Michael cuddles closer, as if trying to get Ashton to absorb him through osmosis will show just how much he loves him.

“It will be. It could be made of tin foil and it’d be worth it.”

Ashton hums, carding his fingers through Michael’s hair while he checks the rest of his email and any other notifications left unopened on his phone. Michael dozes off, but when they move to the bedroom he spends too much time awake, imagining what the ring is going to feel like on his finger.

-/-

“So,” Calum says the next day, once they’ve escaped the room (surprisingly) and sent the others to order their food. “What’s got you so distracted today?”

Michael hums, squinting against the sun and watching a few cars go by. The cafe is a bit out of the way, but they have good sandwiches and good quiche and the patio is really nice. Ashton managed to find it within the first week of officially moving to LA, and they’ve been coming here ever since. 

“Ashton told you, didn’t he,” Michael says, because Calum is barely containing a grin and looks far too smug for Michael’s taste.

“Have you found it yet?” he asks.

“He asked me not to look.”

“Usually that would just spur you on.”

Michael shakes his head.

“Not with this. It means too much to him.”

Michael glances through the window to the inside of the cafe, where Ashton is standing in line with Luke, locked in his own conversation and waiting for their orders to finish. As if he senses Michael’s eyes on him, he glances at him and smiles. It’s instinctual to smile back.

“I’m really happy for you,” Calum says.

“It hasn’t even happened yet,” Michael replies, going back to tracing the lines of their patio table with his finger.

“But it’s going to, and we all know you’re going to say yes. You two are made for each other. I’m glad that my best friends are happy. Besides, it’s a really nice ring.”

“You’ve seen it?” Michael asks, gaze snapping back to Calum. A lazy grin spreads across his face, and this is definitely intentional. He  _ knows _ that now Michael is going to be thinking about this for the entire rest of the day. Michael is going to trip Luke on his way over here so Calum’s food goes flying.

“Luke and I went with him to pick it out.”

“What?” he squawks. “I’m the only one who hasn’t seen it? Cal, that’s not  _ fair _ .”

“What’s not fair?” Ashton asks, setting down a plate in front of Michael. Calum snorts, but doesn’t say anything, so Michael sighs.

“All of you have seen the ring except me.”

“Oh, that. You’re still not allowed to have a sneak peak,” he says, then turns to Calum and Luke. “And neither of you are allowed to drop hints or encourage him to look for it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Luke says. Calum just grins, so Michael kicks him under the table.

“Ow! Fine, I won’t, either.”

“Good,” Ashton says.

“So have you guys thought about a wedding date, or…” Luke asks.

“No wedding talk until we’re actually engaged,” Michael says. “Band rule, established right now.”

“Of course,” Luke says very seriously. “You still need to have the option to say no. I understand.”

“Hey,” Ashton says defensively. Michael puts a hand on his thigh under the table, in case he’s about to get insecure and actually think Luke isn’t joking.

“If Michael says no, I’ll marry you, Ash,” Calum says. “I’d be the better option, anyway.”

Michael really hopes Calum gets a huge bruise from the amount of times he’s kicked him under the table today.

“No one is marrying Ashton except me,” he says. “Now we’re switching conversation topics, and you guys are going to stop bringing up our impending engagement until it actually happens. Let’s talk about when Luke thought we had to pry the door open despite everyone telling us no brute force would be used.”

Luke huffs and sets off in a defense of every idiotic moment he had in the escape room, and Michael stabs his quiche and starts to eat. Ashton’s hand lands on the one still resting on his thigh, squeezing briefly before he goes back to his own meal. Michael smiles to himself and rolls around the word  _ fiance _ and then the word  _ husband _ in his mind a few times.

-/-

Michael manages to push thoughts of the ring to the back of his mind for about two weeks, but when Ashton steps in water because Moose knocked over her water dish and Michael goes to get him another pair of socks because he is a nice boyfriend, it comes rushing back into his mind.

Sock drawers are a very stereotypical place to hide an engagement ring. Surely, Ashton wouldn’t hide his there. Ashton is better than that. He wouldn’t put it somewhere Michael would think to look if he was actually snooping, right?

“Hey Ash?” he calls.

“Yeah?”

“The ring’s not in your sock drawer, right?”

“What?”

“I said--” he starts to shout, but then Ashton appears in the doorway. “I said, the ring’s not in your sock drawer, right?”

“No, it’s not,” Ashton says, smiling. “You’re not going to find it unless you’re deliberately looking  _ and _ get lucky.”

“Good,” Michael says, and he’s surprised by how relieved he feels. He wants to get engaged, wants it even more now that he knows it’s so close to happening, but he doesn’t want to ruin whatever plan Ashton may or may not have. If that includes not seeing the ring yet, he’s going to do whatever he needs to in order to not see the ring yet.

“It’s cute that you’re worried about that,” Ashton says, stepping closer and sliding his hands around Michael’s waist. Michael’s own hands follow the lines of his arms up to the shoulders, tracing familiar muscles until he can properly play with the hairs at the back of Ashton’s neck.

“It’s cute that it’s something to worry about, in general. Cute that you bought a ring and have it somewhere,” he says.

“Not as cute as you,” Ashton says.

“Obviously. I’m the cutest,” Michael replies. Ashton smiles, then ducks forward and kisses him quickly.

“Can I have my socks now, please?”

“No,” Michael says, pressing closer. “I’m going to keep you here a little while longer.”

“Okay,” Ashton says, and meets him for another kiss easily.

-/-

Michael and Ashton try to have Date Nights every two weeks. They do a lot of things that could be considered dates all the time, but Date Nights are for special things that they plan in advance. Sometimes it’s as simple as a dinner out or going to a movie, and sometimes it’s an elaborate anniversary idea that involves a scavenger hunt around LA to places that hold significance to them, because Ashton knows Michael likes driving and they both like getting sentimental sometimes.

Ashton takes them to an arcade for this one, a reliable date that Michael always enjoys as if it’s his first time there. They go late, so the place is full of young adults hanging out, bowling, or renting karaoke rooms. Michael leads Ashton from game to game, offering advice on games they don’t know how to play and trash talk on the ones they do. They make fools of themselves on a dance game, and do spectacularly bad on a knockoff version of Guitar Hero, which Ashton wins. Michael loves every second of it, and he loves it more because Ashton is right there next to him, laughing and getting snacks and staring at Michael in that fond way that makes him feel like he’s melting from the inside out.

“This was a good one,” Michael says when they’re back in the car.

“That implies that I’ve ever taken you on a bad date,” Ashton says.

“The ridiculously long hike,” Michael reminds him.

“That wasn’t a bad date! You admitted that the view was worth it!”

“Maybe I just meant that getting to see your smile was worth it.”

“That’s too cheesy and I’m not allowing it.”

“Fine. The restaurant where we both got food poisoning.”

Ashton makes a face.

“I’ll give you that one.”

Michael tries to come up with another bad date example, but it doesn’t work. There have to have been some, because you don’t go on dates consistently with the same person for a few years and not have a few misses, but all the amazing ones and the fact that each of them is intentional time spent with Ashton tend to cloud his memory.

“Seriously, though,” Michael says after a few moments. “I had a really good time tonight.”

“The night’s not over yet,” Ashton says. Michael glances at him as much as he can while driving. He’s got a small smile on his face, looking out the window at the houses and other cars passing by.

“I thought we were going home?”

“We are,” Ashton says. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have something else planned for us.”

“Like what?”

Ashton mimes zipping his lips.

“Ashton,” he whines. Ashton laughs, but shakes his head.

“I’m not telling. You’ll find out in five minutes.”

“Is this just your way of saying you want to have sex tonight?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed, but I really do have something else planned for us first. Unless you need something to take the edge off?” Ashton asks, hand landing dangerously high on his thigh, big and warm through the fabric of Michael’s pants.

“No teasing while I’m driving,” he says, a rule they agreed upon because Michael is far too easily distracted when it comes to Ashton.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Ashton says, faux-innocent, but he shifts his hand to a more respectable place on Michael’s leg.

“Is it food?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Come on!”

“It’s five minutes, Mike. You can wait for five more minutes.”

Michael pouts, but Ashton is more stubborn about stuff like this and just lets his thumb rub a gentle pattern on Michael’s leg right up until they get to the driveway and exit the car.

“Hey, go in without me, okay? I need to check on something quick,” he says.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. He leans forward and pecks him on the cheek, and Michael thinks his hand might be shaking slightly where it lands on his waist. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

Michael wants to press, but something in Ashton’s voice stops him. He looks at him, Ashton smiles back, jittery with  _ something _ , and Michael says “okay” and enters the house alone.

The dogs greet him at the door, like they always do, and once they’re satisfied with a few ear rubs and cooed compliments he straightens up and freezes.

There’s string everywhere. A piece of red yarn stretches through the entrance, taped to one spot on the wall, hooked on the coat rack, and disappearing into the living room. Attached with a tiny clothespin is a piece of printer paper that reads  _ MICHAEL! Start Here _ in Ashton’s handwriting. Michael flips it over, but there’s nothing else on it, only a few more papers and photographs clothespinned to the string beyond. Michael looks at the first one, a simple notecard.

_ October 2011, we met at a house party. I never told you, but I had to psych myself up to go over to you. Something about you felt important, and now I know why. _

Michael swallows. He looks at the door behind him, as if Ashton might finish checking on whatever he was lying about and come join him, but it stays firmly shut. This is a journey Michael is supposed to go on alone, evidently.

The next notecard talks about their first Facebook conversation. Then there’s a picture, a printout of the one that was posted on the band social media on December 3 to announce Ashton as their new drummer. It’s got writing all over the back of it, spilling over to another notecard because Ashton never sees the need to be concise when he has something specific to say.

Ashton talks about the Annandale, the electricity on stage despite how much they sucked back then, and he talks about taking this first step together as a band and how Michael looks under stage lights, high on adrenaline and music.

Michael follows the string to a screenshot from their “Teenage Dirtbag” cover, then to other notecards and pictures and moments that are somehow significant to the story of  _ them _ .

Ashton talks about the day he picked Michael up from school without the other two and they got ice cream, then stayed out late enough that they had to get dinner at a McDonalds, too. It wasn’t a date, but that night Michael couldn’t sleep, replaying every moment over and over in his mind and wondering what an actual date with Ashton would be like.

Ashton talks about recording their first EP, and he talks about their almost-kiss the first time they went to London. He talks about Michael dying his hair and about their late-night writing sessions that always turned into just the two of them talking about things they couldn’t say to anyone else. He talks about going on tour and how every fan vying for his attention could never keep it for long if Michael was there, too. He talks about meeting Alex Gaskarth together, and he talks about his jealousy at seeing Michael come back from dates with an easy smile on his face while Ashton stewed and tried to figure out how to tell him how he felt.

Michael reads every notecard and back of a photograph carefully, tracing over the inked-on words with his finger and whispering them to himself, just to get a feel of what they taste like in his mouth. The string stretches around the living room, winding through the kitchen and around to their makeshift studio in the basement, where Michael reads about their actual first date and first kiss in multiple notecards hung above the drum kit, one right after another. He smiles to himself, sitting down on the drum stool to remember all of the things Ashton doesn’t have first-hand experience in, like how Michael spent two hours freaking out to Calum and then Luke about it, and how his heart was beating so wildly he thought he would have a heart attack right until he saw Ashton waiting for him with a smile, when everything seemed to slow down and settle. In the end, the date itself felt as easy as breathing, jitters turning into excited thrills and anxiety melting into happiness.

He can recall that first goodnight kiss as if it were yesterday, despite how many they’ve shared since then. He remembers the warmth of Ashton’s breath on his cheek in the second before he closed the gap, how tenderly his hands cupped Michael’s jaw, how the moment seemed to simultaneously stretch on forever and end before it started.

More than anything, Michael remembers how the kiss felt more like a promise than any verbal agreement ever could.

Michael traces their relationship through the basement, back up the stairs and around the game room and their bedroom. Some of the notes make him giggle, a few make him blush, and one by their bedside table makes his mind turn to static for a few seconds. There has to be well over one hundred notes throughout the house, but Michael can’t even wonder when Ashton possibly had time to do this while he’s reading such an enthralling account of their journey.

He finally finds the other end of the string taped to the wall by their patio door.

The third to last note reads:  _ A few weeks ago you were helping me find an email and found the order confirmation for your engagement ring first. I can’t begin to tell you what sorts of panicked thoughts raced through my mind, but all you did was continue your task, laugh with me, and promise not to look when I asked. It made me want to marry you even more than I already did, which I thought was impossible. _

The second to last note reads:  _ I took you to the arcade tonight because I love watching you light up when you play games and how intently you focus on me when you’re helping. I want to make you happy like that all the time. _

The last note reads:  _ In a few moments, once you come outside, I’m going to propose. _

On autopilot, Michael opens the patio door and steps onto the deck.

Ashton is in the yard below, surrounded by strings of fairy lights. He scrambles to standing once he spots Michael making his way slowly down the stairs to him.

There’s a ring box clutched tightly in his hand.  _ The _ ring box. Michael almost stops short at the sight of it, but his feet are on autopilot, always headed towards Ashton.

“You’re crying,” Ashton says. “I haven’t even said anything.”

Michael brings a hand to his face, and Ashton’s right. His cheeks are damp, and he hadn’t even noticed. He swipes at them, but it’s useless. He’s so overwhelmed by nostalgia and love and Ashton, and now there’s a ring box and he’s resigned himself to becoming a blubbering mess by the end of this.

“You said quite a lot already,” Michael says thickly. “Our home is covered in string and notecards.”

“And memories,” Ashton says. “And I want to make more with you. I want to keep making more until the day we die, and then maybe beyond that if there’s an afterlife. Michael you’re--”

He pauses. Swallows. Michael wonders how long it took him to look at all of the notes while Ashton was out here alone, working himself up over this.

“I can’t properly put into words how much you mean to me. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night. I want to be with you during the good days and hold you through the bad nights. I want to hear every bad song you write and every good one and the mediocre ones in between. I want to cook for you and argue about who’s turn it is to do the laundry. I want to take care of you, and I want to let you take care of me. Michael, I can’t love anyone else the way that I love you, and I don’t think anyone else can love me like you can, either.”

He sinks down to one knee, so sincere in what he’s saying, and Michael is already nodding before the ring box is even open.

“I haven’t asked the question yet,” Ashton says fondly. “You have to let me ask the question.”

“Okay,” he laughs, the sound foggy with tears. “Ask me, then.”

“Michael Gordon Clifford, will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes, of--”

He can’t say anything more because he’s bending down to kiss Ashton. It’s a little gross, because he’s crying and Ashton’s tearing up too and the angle is so bad, but it’s their first kiss as  _ fiances _ , and that means everything. He pulls Ashton up and wraps his arms around his waist, tucking his face into his neck because he’s crying too hard to do anything else right now and needs a moment. Ashton’s arms circle him, supporting him and keeping him safe and secure, and Michael thinks he could live in this moment for eternity if he didn’t want to have a million more moments with Ashton in the future.

When Michael has caught his breath, he pulls back enough to look at Ashton and chuckles at the tear tracks he sees.

“We’re a mess,” he says, reaching up to swipe at them with his thumbs. “I can’t believe we’re engaged.”

“You haven’t even put on the ring yet,” he says, and Michael gasps.

“The ring! I get to finally see it! Can I--will you--”

“It’s right here,” Ashton says, holding up the box between them. Michael looks at the band inside, silver metal with a golden outline.

“It’s platinum and rose gold,” Ashton says. “It’s not quite a shiny diamond ring with your name on it, but if that’s a deal breaker I can get you another one.”

“It’s okay. You showed up with the plane ticket a long time ago, so I think I can forgive the different ring. Referencing the song fully would probably be too cheesy, even for us.”

“Yeah, probably,” Ashton says, taking Michael’s left hand gently and slipping the ring on. It fits perfectly, and Michael stares at it for a moment, testing the new weight that he’s going to wear forever.

“It’s so beautiful,” he whispers.

“Worth the patience?” Ashton asks. Michael gives him an exasperated look.

“You could have tossed me a ring pop while eating microwaved leftovers and it would have been worth the patience. You didn’t have to go all out, although I loved it, obviously. How did you even get that all set up?”

“We have some pretty good friends.”

“Of course we do,” Michael smiles. He’ll have to thank them later. “Still, all those notes you wrote... You really outdid yourself this time.”

“I wanted you to experience how you make me feel all the time,” Ashton shrugs.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Loved.”

Michael looks down at the ring again, a promise that he’d known was coming for weeks but that still somehow feels poignant displayed on his finger. Nothing’s really changed with their relationship, just their titles for each other, but Michael loves it, knew he would since the moment he saw that email that let him know this was coming. They keep so much of their relationship to themselves, confined to tender moments or small glances that no one else gets to see, but this is a sign for the world. There’s a ring on Michael’s finger, and it means that he’s loved by and loves someone enough to know he’s going to spend the rest of his life with him.

“Maybe I’ll get you the shiny diamond ring,” he says, looking back to Ashton’s face. “Just so you have something as a reminder, too.”

“I’d like that,” Ashton says. He takes Michael’s hand, and Michael squeezes.

“Come on,” he says. “I’m exhausted now. This is one of the best nights of my life and I need to lay down to process it.”

“I can start taking down the string,” Ashton says, stepping around the fairy lights and flipping the off switch on the power cord they’re plugged in to, plunging the yard further into darkness.

“Don’t you dare,” Michael says. “You’re coming to bed with me, and tomorrow we’re going to go through everything again together, with my commentary. I can’t believe you thought you could send me on that emotional journey alone.”

“I should have known better.” Ashton shakes his head, but Michael can still make out his grin in the dark.

“Yeah, you should have. That’s the type of thing you know about the person you’re going to marry.”

“My  _ fiance _ ,” Ashton says, and the sound of it coming from his mouth sends electricity up and down Michael’s spine. “My husband-to-be.”

Michael makes a happy noise, pulling Ashton closer as they head inside to go through their nightly routine. When teeth have been brushed and all the lights turned off, Michael curls around Ashton in the dark, legs tangled and his left arm securely around his chest. Ashton covers his hand with his own, running a finger across the ring that Michael hasn’t taken off.

“My future husband,” he says sleepily, and Michael thinks the words have a nice ring to them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are always appreciated
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [allsassnoclass](http://allsassnoclass.tumblr.com)!


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